


At Eleven At Night

by confetti_ina_coffin



Series: Late Night Fights Bring Out The Best In Us Apparently [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Crying, Explicit Language, Fighting, M/M, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-06 11:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12816120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confetti_ina_coffin/pseuds/confetti_ina_coffin
Summary: And stopped short, as his heart seemed to stop working, because there he stood, in sweatpants and his army-green jacket, hair tousled as if he kept running his hands through it, and Keith knew he probably was.  It was a habit of his, something he did when he was nervous.There he stood, Lance McClain.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Azphen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azphen/gifts).



> Wow! An unexpected part two to a one-shot! Who would've thunk!
> 
> In case you were wondering, this won't make a whole ton of sense unless you read the first part, Three In The Morning, which you can find here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12789096
> 
> And yeah!
> 
> Enjoy.

Good  _ god _ , how much Keith Kogane wished this was a normal Monday.  
  


But no, it wasn't.

 

It started with his alarm, for whatever reason, not going off, causing him to be thirty minutes late for work, and of course at that very moment he realized he never took his laundry from Friday night, so not only was it soggy and gross, but he would have to wash again AND he had nothing to wear for work.

 

After digging around in his closet and finding a somewhat presentable looking outfit consisting of way too small jeans that would not stop riding up on him, an old MCR shirt with rips that were definitely not supposed to be there, and his regular red hoody, that was dirty with coffee stains and lord knows what else, he left his apartment to head to work.

 

When he had gotten onto his motorcycle, he became instantly aware that he had two options; get gas and become at least another ten minutes late for work, or gun it to work and risk running out of gas on the way back.

 

Keith sped down the road to work, praying there wouldn't be too much traffic or police officers.

 

At work, everyone was being extremely rude.  It was supposed to be Christmas or whatever the fuck, everyone was supposed to be jolly, but it seemed that the only thing the cold weather brought into town was colder hearts.

 

Keith kept messing up orders, no matter how hard he tried, and all the customers kept yelling, and when he dropped a child's hot chocolate, no one bothered to help him or save him from the parents’ wrath.

 

All Keith wanted was a nice, ten-minute lunch break to have a nice cry in the bathroom, but because he was so late and the coffee shop was so busy, his horrible boss wouldn't even let him do that.

 

He would have to come in early to work the next day to make up for all his fuck-ups today, and he was still on clean-and-close duty.

 

Finally, it seemed as though the day was over.  The streets outside were still busy, but it was at least forty five minutes past regular closing hours, and Keith had just gotten the last ungrateful customer out of the door.

 

Ten minutes later, after gathering his things, locking the front door, and picking a wedgie out of his ass crack for seemingly the hundredth time that day, Keith turned to his motorbike and started it up.

 

However, due to his earlier blunder, he was only able to speed down the road maybe five minutes before his bike slowed to a stop.

 

“One more mile!” he shouted as he pulled over.  He slammed his hands on the handles, not caring if they broke.  “You couldn't have gone one more fucking mile?”

 

Sighing deeply and feeling tears well up in his eyes, Keith got off the bike and pulled out his phone.  Hopefully, Shiro wouldn't mind picking up some gas for him..

 

But when Keith unlocked his phone and opened his messages, he saw that he had about thirteen unread texts form Shiro.  Below his name was Allura, of whom he had ignored five messages.

 

Scrolling down to look for someone else that might help him, Keith’s eyes immediately caught on a name, a contact he still couldn't bring himself to delete.

 

_ Lance M. _

 

Keith's breath stuttered when he read it, and he cursed himself because of it.  God, it had been a month and he still couldn't even read his name without wanting to cry!  But to be fair, he had been wanting to cry all day, so there was really no way to tell.

 

It seemed like eternity Keith stared at his contact name.  Flashbacks from the last time he saw the man flashed behind his eyelids as fast as the cars on the road to his left.  A dark apartment.  The smell of coffee.  

 

_ “I've told you! I'm not-- I don't…” _

 

Keith squeezed his eyes shut.  He could deal with this when he got home.  Or maybe he wouldn't.  He could just brush it under the rug like he had been since that night.

 

_ “I.. I never stood a chance did I?  Like… A real chance?” _

 

He scratched his face, scrolling up again and tapping on Shiro’s name.  His phone immediately opened up to his messages with his older brother.

 

**Shiro the Hero**

_ (Friday, 12:06pm) _

Hey Keith

How ya feelin?

_ (1:41pm) _

You want to come over?

Allura’s making mac n cheese

_ (1:43pm) _

Aw come on!  It's your favorite!

_ (Saturday, 8:19am) _

Keith?

I'm kinda worried about you

_ (9:52am) _

Could you at least answer my texts so I know you're okay?

_ (11:27am) _

..?

_ (Sunday, 4:05pm) _

I want you to know that you can't hide forever Keith

You can talk to me

(Missed call)

_ (6:38pm) _

You better not skip work tomorrow, Keith

 

Keith couldn't help but smile at the messages.  He was grateful his brother looked after him.

 

**Keith K.**

_ (Monday, 9:28pm) _

i ran out of gas

do u think u could get me some?

im on genoa st

**Shiro the Hero**

_ (Monday, 9:29pm) _

A hello would have been appreciated

**Keith K.**

_ (Monday, 9:29pm) _

sorry

**Shiro the Hero**

_ (Monday, 9:30pm) _

I'm getting in my car now.  Be there in 5

 

Keith sighed in relief, leaning onto his bike.  What would he do without Shiro in his life?  His older brother, his best friend, the closest thing he had to family?

 

And yet, Keith couldn't tell him what happened the week before.

 

But it was so humiliating!  How Keith just kept going back to Lance, begging like a dog for something,  _ anything _ ..

 

_ “You  _ did _ have a chance.  But that--it was so long ago, and I can't-” _

 

Keith could never admit that to Shiro.  Not to Shiro, and not to anyone.  At least not now.  The wound was still fresh, the pain still so real.

 

_ “I’ll..” _

 

The ravenette closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

_ “Yeah.  Maybe.” _

 

At the sound of a car pulling over in front of him, Keith opened his eyes to see Shiro’s silver Toyota Corolla.  He smiled in relief.

 

Keith walked up to the driver side door, greeting Shiro with a smile and a hesitant wave as the older man stepped out.  Keith only needed one look at his face to see that a lecture would come sooner or later.

 

“Keith,” he said as his way of hello, and Keith knew the lecture would definitely come sooner than he liked.

 

“Shiro, thank you for helping me out.  I'm sorry I never--” he began, but Shiro lifted a hand to stop him.  “Don't,” he said.  Keith quieted, waiting as Shiro took a breath.

 

“Look,” he began, “I don't know what you're going through, but whatever it is has been making you weird all month, and especially this weekend.”  Keith looked down in shame.

 

“You didn't answer my texts and I was so worried, and when you do it's because you're stalled on some road, out of gas?” Shiro laughed, but it lacked any humor, only sounding tired.  Keith didn't respond, knowing Shiro wasn't finished.

 

“I don't know what happened to you Keith, but I do know that whatever is it, you can't avoid it forever.  I'm not going to force you to talk to me, especially if you don't want to, but know that I'm always here and not talking about it is only going to hurt yourself, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Keith replied.  Shiro patted his shoulder.

 

“So, are you ever planning on telling me?” he asked softly.

 

Keith smiled.  “Maybe,” he murmured.

 

_ “Probably not though.” _

 

Keith shook his head.  “Let’s get you filled up with gas, then,” Shiro said, turning to open the trunk of his car.  The other followed, not sure of what he could do.

 

The siblings refilled Keith’s gas-tank in silence, both scrunching their noses at the smell.  It only took a few seconds, and when it was done, Shiro put down the gas tank, turning to Keith.

 

“Text me when you get home, alright?” he said in a quiet voice, nearly drowned out by passing cars.  “I will,” Keith promised.

 

Before each of them set off again, they hugged, and Shiro ruffled Keith’s hair, much to his annoyance.  Then he was off in his car again, sending Keith another meaningful glance, and a wave out of his window.

 

Keith sighed, heavy with fatigue and unshed tears due to his horrible day.  But he could do that at home, he decided, and so he got back onto his bike and sped off into the night.

  
  
  
  
  


Keith pulled at his hair, attempting to choke down another sob, but he knew it was useless.  It was like this every night, every  _ goddamn  _ night, and he hated himself for it.  He couldn't get over one stupid guy, could he?

 

But it wasn't just one guy.  It was Lance.  Lance, who would bring him flowers and chocolate on Valentine's day every year.  Lance, who had that adorable bubbly laugh.  Lance, who had that slight dimple in his cheek when he smiled big like he always did.  Lance, who never asked him out officially, but always insisted that they didn't need a title.

 

Lance, who after two years, started to drift away.  Lance, who smiled less and less.  Lance, who never wanted to go out anymore.  Lance, who just didn't seem to be Lance anymore.

 

Lance, who had once said he loved Keith.

 

Lance, who said one month ago he didn't anymore, couldn't anymore.

 

Keith, who sat on his bathroom floor sobbing like a teen girl,  who didn't deserve Lance, but loved him anyway.

 

He hated himself for it.

  
  
  
  
  


Keith paused brushing his teeth as he thought he heard a knock at his door.  He listened carefully and jumped when he heard it again.

 

He quickly spat out the toothpaste, rinsing his mouth, and checked himself in the mirror quickly.  His eyes were still blood-shot and red with his insistent rubbing.  HIs nose was still a bit runny, but he looked presentable, if not a bit questionable.

 

The knock sounded again, louder and more desperate.  “Coming, Christ,” Keith called, flinching at his rough sounding voice.

 

Keith padded out to the front door, contemplating whether he should look through his peep-hole.  He glanced into the kitchen, seeing the time.

 

Reluctantly, Keith unlocked the door and opened it, ready to sass whoever the hell was there and whatever the hell they wanted at eleven at night--

 

And stopped short, as his heart seemed to stop working, because there he stood, in sweatpants and his army-green jacket, hair tousled as if he kept running his hands through it, and Keith knew he probably was.  It was a habit of his, something he did when he was nervous.

 

There he stood, Lance McClain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Get out of my apartment, Lance,” he murmured eventually, attempting to sound strong and as angry as he wanted to feel, but it came out broken and pitiful, unshed tears already swarming Keith's vision.

The two men stood for a moment, staring at each other in almost disbelief.  Here, the other stood, after a month of absence and tears and broken hearts and regrets and--  
  


“What are you doing here,” Keith murmured, “At eleven at night?”

  


That seemed to snap Lance out of his trance, because he shook his head, actually _laughed_ , stepping towards Keith.

  


“Keith!  I -- can I come in?” he asked.  Keith wasn't sure whether he wanted to yell at Lance or cry from seeing him, so he nodded and opened the door, numb to the situation.

  


Lance stepped in quietly, closing the door before glancing around Keith's apartment.  From where they were in the hallway, they couldn't see much.  However, the bathroom light Keith didn't turn off on his way out lit the hallway with a faint yellow glow.

  


In the glow, Lance looked back to Keith to give him a final once-over.  He was wearing his baggy maroon shirt, the one that fell around his shoulders and was soft to the touch.  Lance happened to know Keith only wore it after having a bad day at work.  

  


One month ago, Lance would have seen the shirt and pulled Keith close, kissing him slowly and softly, until all the days' troubles melted away, and would wait to see if Keith wanted to take it further.  Most of the time he did, but Lance never wanted to assume.

  


Now, Lance wanted to do the same thing but reminded himself that they weren't together anymore.  They hadn't been for a month since that night…

  


At the thought, Lance’s stomach twisted painfully.  Right, that was why he was here.  To make things better again.

  


With that thought in mind, Lance took a deep breath.  “Keith--”

  


“Why are you here?” the other interrupted sharply.  Lance sputtered for a second before recovering.  “I came here to -- ah, apologize, actually,” he explained.  Keith only stared at him.

  


“Get out of my apartment, Lance,” he murmured eventually, attempting to sound strong and as angry as he wanted to feel, but it came out broken and pitiful, unshed tears already swarming Keith's vision.

  


But Lance was nothing if not determined, and he did not budge.  If anything, Keith's tone only gave him more fuel.

  


“Keith, I came to fix us, can I please --” Lance began again in a soft voice that used to always clam Keith down.  Unfortunately, Keith seemed to realize his tactic.  

  


“No!” he shouted, and a loud slam echoed through the house along with Keith's voice as the man hit his fist the table next to him.  There was another noise, quieter, that alerted Lance of come keys falling of the aforementioned table.

  


Keith stared up at the other, the situation finally clicking into place in his head, his mind finally snapping.  Tears streamed down his face as he continued his tirade on the other.

  


“No!  What makes you think I want you back, you good-for-nothing blubbering man-baby fuck!  You ended us a month ago, remember?  You don't --” Keith finished in a sob, turning away from Lance.  Before the brunette could say anything, though, he continued.

  


“You broke me!” he cried.  His face was wet but he didn't even bother trying to wipe the tears away, knowing they would be replaced fast.  “You dragged me on through broken glass and all the hard times, giving me your fucking excuses and  _ lying  _ to me for three years!  Three fucking  _ years _ !  And when you give me solidity, a valid answer, and explanation, you come back a month later to ‘ _ apologize’ _ ?”

  


“Yes -- !” Lance attempted again, but Keith hit the table once more, louder than before.  “ _ No!   _ No, you don't get to!  You don't get to lie to me anymore!  I'm done with you, I'm done with your shit, I'm done with your lies, I'm done with loving you!  Fuck you!”

  


He stopped once more to take a few ragged breaths, dissolving into more sobs and loud cries.   Lance wanted to do something, to say something, but he feared Keith would start shouting again.

  


“I gave you,” he started to say again, brushing thick black hair roughly from his face, “my fucking  _ everything _ , and you gave me  _ shit _ .”

  


And Lance couldn't even be mad, could he?  Because it was true.  Keith was always there for Lance, always supporting him and loving him and caring for him, and Lance never gave him a chance.  Lance never tried to love Keith, he was just a replacement for Nyma, there to stop the pain, and that wasn't fair.

  


“But that's why I'm here, Keith!” he tried again, and thankfully, the other didn't cut him off again.  He did, however, glare at Lance, who was sure if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under by now.  “I-I want to try again, I really do!”  “And what if I don't, huh?” Keith countered, slumping his shoulders.   _ Now who was lying _ , he thought.

  


“What if I'm done with you, done trying to force whatever this wasn't?”  Lance stared back at him with sad eyes, already knowing what if.  But.. didn't Keith still love him?

  


Right now, it certainly didn't seem like it.  Keith glared at him as if he just killed his dog, and he was sobbing, gripping the small table so hard Lance was actually scared it would break.  And it was all Lances fault, wasn't it?  Of course, it was.  Lance had taken this perfectly good, perfectly lovable and beautiful and pure man and had broken him, ripped his heart to pieces.

  


Steeling his nerves, Lance nodded to Keith.  “I would understand,” he said quietly before continuing, “but I would at least ask for a chance to explain myself, if not for my benefit, then for yours.”

  


Keith looked at him for a moment, cold and broken and calculating, before giving a single nod, letting Lance speak.

  


The man smiled gratefully before straightening his back and looking down at Keith.  He took a calming breath and spoke.

  


“I'm sorry for everything I did to you, Keith.  I was being unfair and a total fuck-tard.  In all honesty, I didn't mean things to go as far as they did.  After Nyma left me, I was heartbroken and desperate and you were.. There, I guess, so I took advantage of you.  But after a while, you became so… constant in my life, and with everything else changing around me, I couldn't stand to lose you too.

  


“And after everything settled down, I realized.. I didn’t love you.”  Lance heard Keith suck in a breath at that, but he continued nonetheless.  “And I was sad at that because I wanted to love you.  I could have loved you, but I was so tired… Not of you!  But just, after helping Mauricio move out and loaning him all that money and mama and papa's divorce and after Abuelo's funeral..  I was so tired of trying to do _anything_ , I just wanted a break, and then I believed I couldn't love you, so I didn't even try.

  


“And you realized this of course, but I kept telling you that it was okay and that I did love you, and that was… Pretty shitty of me.  I shouldn't have done that, and I understand why you hate me.  But I was hurting too, and I also should have explained that to you.

  


“So no, Keith, I don't love you, but I know that if you are willing to give me another chance, that I can really try, and that we can do this right, and I can be a better boyfriend." His voice tapered off, watery, and he wiped his face before taking one last breath.  "So I guess it's just up to you at this point,” he finished, opening his arms in a wide shrug.

  


Keith stared at him for a long moment.  His crying had somewhat stopped, reduced to only a few stray tears at this point, and sniffling every-so-often.  His eyes were sad and his lip quivered, and for a moment, Lance was scared he would him away.

  


But then he closed his eyes and flung himself forward into Lance’s waiting arms, tears spilling anew, crying again much to Lance’s confusion.  “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” he was saying, and Lance just hugged him, shushing him gently and running his hands through his long black hair.

  


“It's okay, it's fine, I'm sorry too,” Lance whispered, and Keith just stopped trying to form words altogether.

  


And they stayed like that, huddled and hugging in the hallway of Keith's apartment, surrounded by yellow light from the bathroom and the sounds of crying, but everything would be okay.

  


After a while, Keith spoke up again, making Lance’s heart hurt.  

  


“I missed you so much,” he murmured.  Lance frowned, hugging him tighter.  “I know,” he replied, just as quiet.

  


“I love you so much,” Keith murmured again before burying his face in Lance’s shoulder.  Said man hid his own face into his thick head of hair.  “I know,” he whispered, kissing Keith's head.  “But I promised you I’d really try, and I am.  I'm going to love you.”

  


Keith nodded, his cried finally seeming to cease.  He held on to Lance tight though, as if afraid he would disappear any moment.  Lance’s heart twisted, knowing he was the cause of Keith's anxiety.

  


But things would get better.  Lance knew they would, with Keith at his side.  This time, he would be strong.  He would try.

  


Keith pulled back suddenly, just enough so that he could see Lance’s face, and after looking at him for a moment pressed a soft, chaste kiss on his lips.  Lance pressed back, smiling into it.

  


And yeah, this was the least normal day Keith could have asked for.

  


But everything would be alright after this, with Lance at his side.

  


Everything would be perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oki doki!! Its finally done! I have to say, I was a bit nervous to post this chapter because it was pretty dialogue heavy, and I have re-written it at least three times because I wasn't really satisfied with how it ended but I still hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> Thank you again Azphen for inspiring me to write a part two! <3

**Author's Note:**

> I should mention that the reason I wrote this was that user Azphen asked if there would be a part two and then my mind started wandering and I was like "well fuck I guess I better write it then" and then I ended up with three thousand words of.. this.
> 
> The next chapter will be put in due time, I promise. I have it all written out, I just like torturing people. :D


End file.
